Resolving Conflicts, Ending Stories
Situation - the “set of all significance.” Elements of the Setting which have been juxtaposed to form conflicts.
Conflict - a set of relationships comprising a character, something the character desires, and an obstacle that prevents the fulfillment of that desire; conflict is an essential structural characteristic of engaging situations.
Resolution - a contextualization interaction in which a player determines that a conflict has been untangled (obstacle removed, character acheiving desire, and/or character abandoning desire), usually complemented by a Fuel->Validation arc.
By now we’re all quite familiar with how to set up a situation, a knot of conflicts that the players address to create story. What I haven’t seen is a thorough explanation of how we determine when those conflicts have been resolved, and when enough of the conflicts of a situation have been resolved that the situation is no longer a situation. How do we gauge when a dynamic situation has been stabilized by the actions of the player characters?
Last night in the final FLFS playtest, the players had figured out that the Americans were masquerading as pirates with a black ship in order to scare off the colonists so they could get at the Old Martian ship that the colonists were unknowingly sitting on top of. The PCs took the captain of the American battleship prisoner for high piracy and all that, and I suggested that the game and the story might be over. It would have been something of an anticlimax if the players hadn’t encouraged me to go on a bit further, with a pair of scenes where the characters reanimated the alien ship and the black ship came out of hiding to stop the British from claiming their prize. When the PCs rammed the black ship into the asteroidal surface of the martian relic, the ending was much more satisfying than simply having their ‘leader’ in a holding cell.
If conflict is character + desire + obstacle, conflict is resolved when any of the three are removed from relevancy. The character no longer wants his object of desire, the object of desire is destroyed or rejects the character, or the obstacle is overcome or circumvented. Easy, right? Of course it’s not so simple. The things that we do in game and the addresses that we level at the situation can mangle those neatly arranged conflicts into an absolute mess. We can turn simple, strong, fair conflicts into impossible juxtapositions of elements that refuse to lose relevancy. Worse, we can turn clear conflicts into murky, weak, illusory conflicts where we’re not sure if anything really is still contested. As if that wasn’t complex enough, when we set up situations with four or five or more conflicts embedded within them, at what point do we walk away from the situation? Do we have to resolve every single conflict? Can we leave one or two dangling and not feel like we’re leaving things undone? Can we only resolve half of the conflicts? Can we resolve just one? How about none?
Enough, or Too Much?
The question of relevancy is key, here, and most importantly the question of who judges relevancy by what process. Does the GM have final say over whether the Big Bad is properly dissuaded from trying to eat the town? Can the players simply declare stakes to the tune of “we resolve this conflict” obscured to whatever degree by flowery in-game language (”We make sure the barbarians never come this way again!”)? What about in games, as in much Full Light, Full Steam play, where the players may not all know all of the details of the situation before they start trying to address it? Say the barbarians are drawn to the beseiged town because their souls have been stolen by the resident necromancer and they are powerless to resist. If the players don’t know that, how can they frame stakes to resolve the situation? Does the GM deny stakes and tell them they don’t understand what’s happening yet? Does the GM let them have their stakes and then just trample on them two scenes later when the barbarians return? Do the players force the GM to get creative in parsing their declared stakes with his non-public situation, so he can have them come back as, say, zombie barbarians?
Perhaps the answer varies game to game, and even table to table. A swashbuckling game favors heroism; a conspiracy game favors cunning. Your swashbuckling game may favor flamboyant stunts; mine may favor witty punchlines. One game may favor all-or-nothing climactic battles; another may favor whittling things down with time and great sacrifice. In my case today, FLFS is a game of broad strokes and bright color, and features a one-roll die check towards this purpose. Many things are resolved in a single die roll. Still, this isn’t the answer I want for the question. What determines whether the elements juxtaposed into conflict have been untangled to the point where the character and the object of desire are united? I don’t have a universal answer, and I want one.
Let’s take a look at Actual Play. Let’s take a look at other narratives, including film and television and novels. When I tried to end the game prematurely, I was responding to the fact that, by my accounting, the character+desire+obstacle knots had been unravelled, and that the colony, the Superb, and the relic ship were all safe in the players’ hands. By ’safe’ I mean that they would not be meaningfully threatened by the obstacle that was still lurking out there. It was the equivalent of letting the characters run into the castle stronghold ahead of the army and trying to end the story as they closed and barred the door. It was letting Frodo and Sam get to the foot of Mount Doom and then throwing up my hands crying, “You made it! Game over!” Yes, I think I was missing the entire point. Any good narrative doesn’t just show the characters manipulating the situation until it’s a foregone conclusion that the characters get their desires — a good narrative shows the characters attaining their desires. I was trying to skip over the players’ victory scenes, and it is the victory scene that determines that the conflict has been resolved — whether it’s the black pirate ship being rammed into the asteroid or the ewoks singing Jub Jub. So perhaps it’s a matter of framing that victory scene, according to the rules of the game and your table. Once you do that, you’ve won. If this is the right of it, that means that framing scenes is some powerful mojo — the final step of resolving conflicts. I’ll have to think on that one.
Depleting Situation
There’s more than one part of the question, however. As for how many conflicts of a situation must be resolved in order to extinguish that situation, let’s consider some actual play. The game last night had three conflicts, at least in terms of its Engineered Situation. The first conflict was whether or not the colony would be evacuated. The second conflict was whether or not the Superb would put itself in harm’s way. The third conflict was who would claim the alien ship as their prize. When they PCs took the American captain hostage, the colony was evacuated, the Superb was cutting the head off of their potential competition, and the alien ship was more or less theirs. But you see how only the first one of those was anywhere near decisive? They had the colonists in the cargo bay; the colony was evacuated. But the Superb hadn’t really taken any risks or run away from any risks, yet. Likewise, the alien ship hadn’t really been fought for; the PCs in fact had only just realized that there was even something to fight over. The additional two scenes addressed those dangling threads — the alien ship was pilotted back towards earth and the Superb had turned the competition into a smear on the rocks. Once all three conflicts had been resolved decisively, the game was very much over, and the conclusion was much more satisfying.
This was a single-situation game; there are no plans to continue with these characters. If we wanted to, though, I’m sure we could have created another situation with new conflicts that took some of their power from the events of the first situation. The PCs had destroyed two American ships and captured three Americans as prisoners of war; they had an unhappy utopian colony in their landing bay; they had a priceless relic ship in tow. New conflicts could certainly be created out of that grist, no problem. Would there have been any benefit in not resolving one or more of the conflicts then and bringing it forward into the next ‘episode’? While my gamer habits shake me by the shoulders screaming “Yes! Yes! Continuity! Long Plot Arcs! Yes!” I actually think the answer is no. Any of those characters could have come back; the ship and the asteroid and the American crews could have resurfaced; another conflict might involve the restored colony somewhere else. That’s continuity — the same elements in new conflicts creating a new situation. But you don’t have to postpone the resolution of the immediate conflicts in order to do that.
So for Full Light, Full Steam I’m thinking — a nice little checklist with all the conflicts in the situation, and you can just tick them off as they’re resolved. Once they’re all resolved, the situation is over. Other ’stuff’ might have been involved outside of those conflicts, but they weren’t the conflict in the game. Those looming issues are choice material to inform later conflicts in following situations.
All Roads Lead Back to Situation Creation
If I’m going to dance down this little road, though, it means I need to be careful about what conflicts are frontloaded into the system. Slap a warning sticker on the Engineering the Situation rules, something to the effect of “Watch out — the conflicts you put into a situation will actually get resolved when you hit ‘go!’” Don’t put Making Peace with your Father in the In slot if you want to kick that question around over the course of the entire game. Instead, put in Getting Father to See a Doctor or Resist Father’s Tempting Offer. Otherwise, it’s all too easy to toss Overthrow the Evil Empire into the first situation and… whoops, the game was supposed to be about hard-bitten rebels under an oppressive regime and we lost our oppressive regime right out of the gate!
To some extent this is covered by Thematic Batteries, which persist situation to situation, and inspire each situation created. These are the templates for the flow of the game, and conflicts created from them should always provide an instance where the battery is relevant, not target the battery itself. It’s dirty pool if I set up a conflict where Judson’s character, with the battery American, has to deal with the revelation that he’s not actually American — although a conflict where his nationality is called into question is perfectly legitimate. Even if, through the course of the situation with his questionable nationality, it turns out he isn’t an American, it’s the struggle through that process which is the conflict, not the aftermath. He might even opt to swap out that battery at the end of that situation, but he would do so at his discretion and after having played through the events that led up to it. Alternately, he could keep American even though it wasn’t true, or rework it to reflect his history with the nationality. If the example isn’t working for you, replace “American” with “Brave,” “Noble Blood,” or “Closet Homosexual.”
One of the edit notes that I have to add in the post-playtest edit is that the Drama dial is a question of “How hard do you want it to be to be your character?” and that fits in here. With the drama dial cranked, your thematic batteries are relevant in problematic ways — patriots are faced with traitorous old friends; brave heroes are maligned as cowards. Thematic batteries directly inspire the object of desire (regain my Honor!) or the obstacle to that desire (my Arrogant Assurance gets in the way). With the drama dial on a lower setting, thematic batteries are relevant in complementary ways — patriots rally mobs of Britons to victory, and brave heroes display acts of derring-do. There, thematic batteries inspire indirectly: the object of desire is something agreeable to your batteries (save my fellow Cornishmen) or the obstacle is vulnerable to your batteries (it just so happens I’m a Decathlete!). Whichever the case, such conflicts can be resolved through the course of play without crippling later play — in fact, resolving these conflicts inform later play and develop the characters as you go.
I Do Go On, Don’t I?
It never fails; every time I turn around there’s yet one more thing that needs a little deeper rewrite in the post-playtest edit. I’ll be taking a hard look at the new scene framing rules via the scrip to make sure they don’t kill victories like I tried to last night; I’ll need to restructure the creating conflicts from inspirations section from Engineering the Situation; I’ve got to focus that Drama segment and see if the other parameters can be retooled similarly, and strengthen the cross-references with situation. Above all, I’m increasingly convinced that I need a strucutred worksheet for situation creation which turns into a reference sheet for the Game Master to use in play. Something to keep track of open conflicts and to more clearly display NPC thematic batteries to the other players. The Situation Sheet, to complement the Character Sheet. As the other players keep track of their characters, the GM needs to keep track of the situation so he can bring it to a satisfactory end.

April 20th, 2006 at 6:24 am
> A good narrative shows the characters attaining their desires.
I disagree. Some of my favourite narratives are about character failure. White Men Can’t Jump, as one example. Flowers for Algernon, another.
April 20th, 2006 at 8:20 am
You’re right, Roger, I mispoke myself. What I should have said was that a good narrative shows the conflict having been resolved, which takes the form of character victories and character defeats. Point being, it’s not enough to get to the point where everybody knows how the conflict would play out, it’s important to play that conflict out.
April 20th, 2006 at 12:08 pm
That makes more sense now. Thanks for the clarification.
April 20th, 2006 at 3:29 pm
So for Full Light, Full Steam I’m thinking — a nice little checklist with all the conflicts in the situation, and you can just tick them off as they’re resolved.
Above all, I’m increasingly convinced that I need a strucutred worksheet for situation creation which turns into a reference sheet for the Game Master to use in play.
Dude. You must have seen this by now:
http://www.onesevendesign.com/st/st_dreamsheet.pdf
See the little circles in the “Desire” boxes? You check those off when the NPC’s conflict is resolved. All I can say is: It works for me. I highly recommend it. And is it a total coincedence that you chose the “character + obstacle + desire” construction, or did you base that off the Dream Sheet?
April 20th, 2006 at 4:18 pm
I’ve been assuming you got character+obstacle+desire from me, since I got it from my English prof and have been touting it loudly whenever anybody mentions conflict.
Checkboxes it is, then!
April 20th, 2006 at 8:56 pm
Ah ha! I got it from my English prof, so we’re even.
April 23rd, 2006 at 2:39 pm
This is so cool. Why couldn’t my english teachers be awesome like that? All they taught me to do was obsessively deconstruct everything that I read and watch!
I want my money back.